


Dark Dragon

by Anonymous



Category: Mother 3, Mother Series
Genre: Dark Character Interpretation, Endgame, Ficlet, Flash Fic, Incest, M/M, Mother 3 Spoilers, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, Pairing Optional- Shipping goggles can come off, Spoilers, Twincest, —hopefully
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 20:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20512928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Passing his heart to the dragon, Lucas became a god.And god always gets what he wants.





	Dark Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> You don’t have to see it as Luclaus.
> 
> 10/3 Edit: I accidentally posted this early and was too lazy to delete everything and redo the tags. If you saw this before the update, please reread.

Lucas had never felt this pain before.

Not when he frolicked through the woods in his youth, tripping over roots and skidding his knees. Not when all the villagers laughed at his weakness, his frail heart and yearning heart. Not even when his dear mother died.

Mother.

Everyone loved Hinawa. When she died, Lucas’ whole world tilted sideways. He father became delirious at the news of her death. A strong, kind, quiet man turned to monster within an instant. He lashed out at everyone and everything near him. Lucas witnessed a part of Flint he wished he never knew, and for a second time that night Lucas felt he might die.

On the day of her funeral, no one smiled. Everywhere he looked he found sadness; the air around him turned cold and heavy. The sun seemed to dim. Few spoke beyond condolences. Even the birds fell silent, their song paused as they lowered Mother to her new bed. It was as if the islands had understood it had lost something dear, someone so kind and indispensable that life paused in acknowledgement. The soft wind seemed as the only comfort Lucas had as he cried out to the earth. Father was locked away as Tazmily’s first prisoner, his violence scaring everyone to thinking he might be permanently dangerous.

Lucas cried by her grave that day, and long after. He cried day and night, stricken by a grief that struck his heart and broke it apart. He couldn’t sleep. Behind his eyelids terror flashed in streaks of red and green. His dreams were plagued by nightmares, endlessly watching her death over and over as a fang pierced through her chest. Her screams came out as quiet gasps. Her wide eyes always looked back to him, pained and tearful, pleading for forgiveness as if she had wronged him.

He could never understand why she looked like that. It was by her protection that they lived, her endless love pushing them into the rushing river that swept them into the safe arms of their neighbors. By her will, they survived that awful night, he and Claus.

With Claus, it all didn’t hurt so much. 

He was quiet after Mother died, and somehow he didn't cry. Lucas didn't see a single tear, but saw how his hands clenched and shook as his eyes became distant. He was clearly upset, but he was trying to appear strong. Strong for the both of them, Lucas thinks. He'd stay 

Claus was always there beside him. “Two parts of a soul” his mother once said, and the village agreed. They believed in the fairy tales, of twins bonded by a special connection, mentally and emotionally intertwined beyond blood. Stories of twins sharing powers beyond their lives and bodies. A reflection of the dragons themselves, a mysterious gift to mankind.

Lucas didn't quite believe it. He loved his brother and couldn't imagine a life without him, but the stories made it seem like they couldn't exist alone. Like if one died, then other would soon follow. And it appeared he was right. 

* * *

In hindsight, Lucas should've seen it coming; Claus was no less emotional than Lucas, and much more reckless. There was a time he would've thought of it as bravery, but now he just see's a rambunctious, angry, and then sad little boy.

Not long after Mother died, Claus took off with his Father's kitchen knife and a heart set on revenge. Lucas tried to stop him. Pleaded.

“I have to do this,” Claus said. “Can’t let it end like this. Mom, she... She died for us. She died when she didn’t have to. She’s gone now and it’s my duty to avenge her.”

”No! Don’t say that!” Lucas cried. “Mom would hate it if she heard that... S-she probably hates it now, in heaven! I-, Mom.. I-I wish she was still here. I want her back so bad. And I hate how sh-she died.. But you... She did it for u-us. Claus, it’s not your fault—“

“But it is!” Claus whirled around towards him. “It’s all my fault. You don’t understand.” His hands tensely shook as his face scrunched up in frustration.

”I was the last run away.” He stepped closer, nostrils flared.

“I ran _towards_it.” Another step. His curled into balls of wrath.

“I didn’t listen to her!” His teeth gnashed as he spoke.

“And now she’s **DEAD**!” His yell startled the birds as he swung a fist into his own chest.

”It’s _my fault_, Lucas.” He gave a raspy little whisper. “When I finally started running away, running and running with you and Mom just to trip, not even past the valley, I just.. Just froze, staring at it...” His hand loosened to clutch his shirt, and he gazed at his brother with a pained look that shot through Lucas.

“She didn’t chose Lucas. I made her.”

At last, Lucas saw his brother cry. Tears poured from Claus’ eyes in the a rare show of vulnerability. Claus' habit of playing tough guy- something he picked up from wanting to be like Father, Lucas thinks- meant he pretended he better than than he actually felt, as if his grin could wipe away his pain. Of course, that grin couldn't hide away the pain from Mother's death, and Claus didn't try. No amount of scraped knees and falling out of trees could ever match the paint that stuck itself inside someone, like a ball of thorns cutting away at their guts. Lucas realized that he so caught up on his own pain that he forgot about Claus'.   
  
They may not be magical like the stories made them out to be, but they were still twins. Tears budded and slipped past Lucas' eyes. He should have been able to make out Claus' feelings better than this.   
  
Was he really that selfish?

A sniffle broke the silence. Claus snapped back to attention and looked away. He scrunched his face up in an effort to stop the droplets squeezing past his lids. He wiped his face.  
  
"I've gotta go kill that Drago, I gotta... "

"Kill..?" That brought Lucas out of his own daze. "C-Claus," he started. "That Drago... Isn't like the rest. Dragos are nice. Mom says dragonkin have to be, since they're the Dragons' eyes. But that. That Drago... It looks like one, but it's all wrong... I'm not sure if it even counts."  
  
"... No, probably not." Claus conceded. "At least not anymore. But whatever it is, I'll kill it. I'll..."  
  
"Mom said not to hurt others.."  
  
"It hurt her."  
  
"Yeah but... Claus... Dad'll be really angry you took his knife a-and. Besides, you don't really think a knife can k-kill it. Do you?"  
  
"Something has to be able to. I'll figure out. And I'll tell Dad I'm sorry." He looked at the sky and frowned deeper. "...I can't stay longer. I have to go."  
  
"T-then-!"  
  
"No." Claus cut Lucas off immediately. "No, y_ou_ have to stay."  
  
"Why? Claus please, it's dangerous out there. It's dangerous to go _after_ it!" Lucas began to beg. "You don't even know where it is! It may not even be in the forest, o-or the the-"  
  
"Drago Plateau. It'll be there, I just know it." Claus' face hardened into a determined look. "Even if it's not, it has to be somewhere on the Islands. And when I find it I'll rip out it's fang."  
  
Lucas whimpered.  
  
"Lucas." Claus fully faced his brother and waited until he had his full attention. "I need you to stay here. With everyone else. If we both left, then the village would immediately know somethings wrong. So I need you to cover for me. This quest is dangerous. And I can't say I won't get hurt..." Lucas let out another whimper. "...But I will comeback home. No matter what, I'll live."  
  
"Promise?" Lucas whispered hopefully.  
  
Claus' face softened. "_Promise._" He echoed reassuringly. "Cross my heart." He put on his signature grin and for a brief moment, Lucas' anxiety faded away.  
  
"Now come on!" Claus said, voicing cheer. "Give me smile 'fore I go, okay? I hate it when you frown." He gave an expectant look. "I like it when you're happy, so can I see one?"  
  
"O-kay.." Lucas tried to give out a little grin.  
  
"Come oooon!" Claus said. "I know you can do better! Go bigger!" He pointed at the corners of his mouth, still grinning, and tilted his head. "Nice and bright! Show me those teeth!"  
  
"Okay! Okay!" Lucas giggled. A little cheered, Lucas gave a beaming smile.  
  
"There we go!" Claus hopped forward and pulled Lucas into a hug. "Don't cry, okay? Just keep smiling."  
  
Lucas hugged back and let himself still. Once Claus deemed it long enough, he slowly pulled away. Lucas had to stop himself from trying to grab his clothes- Claus made it clear nothing would stop him from going.  
  
Claus turned around towards the beaten path. "See you, Lucas. I love you." The words came so easy.  
  
"I love you too." And he meant every breath. "You... You better not get too hurt!"  
  
" 'Course! Wait for me. I'll be back soon so... Don't count the hours!" And with that, Claus sprinted away back into the wilds.  
  
Lucas watched his figure shrink and disappear behind the trees, and a little more until he remembered what Claus asked him. He walked back to the village and as he climbed the hill back to his Mother's grave, Lucas suddenly realized felt even lonelier now. Claus wasn't here, and Mother wasn't here, and Dad was in jail. Lucas had only the wind, flowers, and Mother's tombstone. The anxiety and sorrow crept back as Lucas wondered how Father was, if he was sane again, how angry he'd be if he knew where Claus went and what he planned to do. He wondered how Claus would kill the weird Drago. How he'd dodge his maw, how he'd even reach for it's giant body, if the knife would bounce off the shiny parts.

And then he remembered what Mother said about the Dragos- The strength of their bone, how thick and sturdy their hides were. He whimpered again, realizing Claus had no chance.  
  
Surrounded by sunflowers and the sound of his gasping breaths, Lucas cried and awaited tragedy.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot, but it's dragging on longer than I wanted and I did need to get it out today before the draft got deleted.
> 
> I really hope the endgame tag doesn’t accidentally attract a bunch of mcu fans because ‘endgame’ has been in use long before the movies.
> 
> Of course, please comment on any errors. Thank you again for reading.


End file.
